The Tale of Platinum Pair
by Tako Phin
Summary: The prankster Niou Masaharu, and the gentleman Yagyuu Hiroshi. A match made in hell, sure to cause destruction. And yet, they may just be that one piece that complete each other's lives.
1. Prologue: Only the Beginning

_Just one hit, and it will be over._

"Laser beam."

The green tennis ball zoomed past the silver haired player at an absurdly high speed. Had it been one inch more to the left, bones on Niou Masaharu's nose would definitely crack.

"Definitely better up close." Niou complimented with a whistle. Despite his uneasiness, he gave his opponent his typical manic grin.

One point for his opponent and almost a free trip to infirmary.

He did not give a damn.

Neither did his opponent, or at least that was what the permanent poker face plastered on Yagyuu Hiroshi throughout the match was trying to tell. But like all 'good' things, it _would_ come to an end.

 _Just one hit._

The green ball whizzed to the other side of the court, returned with equal malice.

"Laaaaseeerrr Beaaaaaam~"

Niou stuck his tongue out as an ostentatious victory display. He swore he could hear the cracking of Yagyuu's poker face, the pieces falling apart upon the sick realization. Yagyuu's brows furrowed, the madness of his emotions concealed behind his tinted lens. Niou did not need to see Yagyuu's eyes to know he was _this_ close.

2-2. 30-30.

The next point would _definitely_ be the last.

Tense, expression stone cold. Yagyuu would hit him with all he got with the next ball.

 _One hit._

Another Laser Beam; the green ball zapped in a straight path with a speed akin to a laser towards Niou's face. Too fast to dodge, definitely a bull's eye. Yagyuu would at last get the revenge he had always wanted.

And more.

Unfortunately for Yagyuu, a bull has two eyes.

With precisely planned moves , Niou swiftly dug into his shorts' pocket, took out a similar green ball, and smashed the ball straight to Yagyuu's face, milliseconds before his own face was jabbed by an equally powerful strike.

The porcelain mask shattered to pieces. A furious frown, and a sly smirk.

They fell onto the cold concrete below and the blinding agony of the impact swallowed their fatigued minds. They allowed darkness to steal them away from the world, giving a temporary respite from this universe of theirs that had just been turned upside down. It was only the beginning.

 _Nice meeting you, finally._


	2. Chapter 1: Lost Idol

**Note: Niou's hair is purple in this story, following the anime**

* * *

"Proceed to court 3 for your trial. Go down the stairs, turn left and walk all the way to the furthest court."

Niou Masaharu nodded absentmindedly at the senior's instruction. From where he stood, he could see two rows of three tennis courts on the lower ground. Each one of them was filled with freshmen earnestly striving to impress their opponents in a futile match and hopefully do well enough to earn a spot in the prestigious tennis club. Meanwhile, behind him was a long line of people, amusingly edgy to have their turn at that futile match.

And then there was him, contemplating to tear his registration slip to pieces.

Ah, he had better moved away before some impatient freshman (read:jerk) shove him out of the queue. Dragging his registration slip off the table, he took one step towards his left. The people behind him were probably glaring daggers at him for 'wasting precious seconds that could be used for training'. As if he gave a damn.

What else did he expect from Rikkaidai really, the high school with outstanding records for _everything_ , especially tennis? He should have joined After School Club- which regrettably did not exist in this ruthless school.

Then again, he did not want to waste all the effort he had gone through to sabotage his queueing time from one hour to a second. Thus he dragged his unwilling legs down the closest stairs to where the outdoor courts were, wearing a dreadful expression unlike any other freshmen **ever.**

Niou was about to groan upon metting with a flock of students around the first court, right after the stairs, until he saw what the commission was about.

6-1

"Did you see that?!" One student exclaimed in amazement.

"The finishing move that purple haired kid did? The ball just went ' _fwoosh'_ to the other side!"

"More importantly, that kid just beat a regular!"

You could hear some students groaned in misery. "Oh man, there's no way we can make it now…"

Niou strolled past, sneaking a glance at the commotion. Apparently he just missed a historical moment where a no-name freshman utterly defeat a Rikkaidai regular with some ball that went ' _fwoosh_ '. He would love to see that in person some day, perhaps when he had more damn to care.

Another commotion bursted, this time on the second court. An unfortunate lad was paralyzed from top to toe. Towering over him, his blunette opponent wore an arrogant smirk. "Poor freshman." Now Niou was curious as to what kind of tennis could do that. But unable to waste any more time, he moved on to the next court where he was supposed to be in minutes ago.

A senior opponent was standing on the court, posing all highty and mighty as if he had already won the match. He probably thought Niou was too scared to play against him. Niou spared that irritating snob not another glance.

"Let's not waste time."

Unlike the first court freshman, Niou did not have a special killing move.

"What are you trying to do?" His opponent questioned in the middle of a match.

Neither was Niou like the second court blunette that could finish a match by forcing his opponent to default.

"Stop that!"

No, Niou's work was much more intricate.

"STOP COPYING MY MOVE!"

Gotcha.

It was a piece of cake to defeat an opponent that was already unnerved by your every move. Like an overloaded nerve, any kind of stimulus will set it off. Though Niou applauded his guts for staying through to see his utter rout of 6-0.

Staring at the courts he had walked past, he could see the next batch of freshmen fighting like David against Goliath. Too bad, with that kind of skill, they would not be getting happy end.

Niou exited the court. He could hear his opponent ranting to him in amazement cum envy, but he was deaf to that. If the entire club was filled with those kind of seniors and freshmen, Niou would rot to ash before the year even ended. He absentmindedly thumbed the handle of his racquet as he walked past the two courts and made his way to the stairs, passing by other applicants whose eyes were following him in awe. If the blunette and the purple haired guy were nowhere to be found at this evening's announcement,

"This school can go to hell."

Niou stormed out of the outdoor court area. Unlike what they thought, he could see the look on the students slowly transforming to a badly opinionated one. Niou stuck out his tongue in retribution.

* * *

Rikkaidai tennis club was swift in filtering through the promising freshmen from the hopeless ones. On the same evening, the list of the accepted applicants were pasted on the fence of the first outdoor court nearest to the stairs. Flocking around the list were hundreds of anxious students hustling each other, painfully tipped their toes and squinted their eyes simply to read whether they were one of the lucky select few to make it.

Niou, however, prefer sparing himself the trouble. If he did not make the cut, then that list should only have one tenth of its original length. Standing on the elevated ground just right before the stairs, he scrutinized the congestion. Thankfully the orange filter casted by the setting sun made the crowded vista less of an eyesore.

He spotted the merciless blunette standing slightly away from the crowd while chatting amicably. Good. His talking partner was a stern looking student with a cap on that looked like he's hundred fifty years old. Niou spotted some other students with equally interesting hair in the crowd: a smug looking red head casually popping a bubblegum and a baldy. Not to mention himself and his platinum locks.

But no purple.

His brows furrowed, scanning the crowd once more to no avail. He looked around him. None.

The guy was unlikely to be some kind of smug bastard who believed only peasants crowded around to check the announcement when he could not even get a clean rout during the trial match. And there was no way in hell Niou could overlook that guy!

Niou clenched his fist on his school bag. If that guy thought he could come to flaunt around his special skill and leave just like that, Niou would chase him to hell and back to personally pound that bastard's face down to ground. He walked out of the area, already planning his next set of moves to achieve that.

None of the students of Rikkaidai could have expected how much damage the whirlwind called Niou Masaharu would cause within the next few days. Especially not the fact that it was linked to the seemingly innocent act of a student by the name Yagyuu Hiroshi transferring from golf club to tennis club.


End file.
